


La Confusion

by Capucine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Paddling, some french
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:15:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Francis has only just returned with Matthew, after five years living separately from Arthur and Alfred. Arthur really doesn't want to muck this up...</p><p>...but it seems he can't help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Confusion

**Author's Note:**

> I speak French not so well, so be aware that I may be wrong in how I worded them.

There was maybe a reason that Arthur and Francis had split up for five years. Just because they were tentatively living in a house together with the adopted twins they'd separated didn't mean they didn't have their differences.

And Arthur was about to prove it.

“Alfred! I told you no cookies before dinner!” Arthur shouted at the little blond.

Alfred was always defiant, being all of six years old. Instead of shouting back or shoving as many of the cookies in his mouth as he could, however, he shoved his fingers in his mouth and mumbled something.

Probably something insulting, knowing him.

“This has to be the eighth time I've caught you doing this! You know what that means,” Arthur said, reaching towards the wall.

Alfred watched him, seemingly bemused, until he pulled the paddle off the wall.

He started saying something, and he sounded like he was imitating Matthew; the poor, unfortunate child had been raised in France when Francis took him, and as a consequence, mostly spoke French instead of English.

Well, if Alfred thought acting like Matthew was going to get him out of punishment, he was dead wrong.

Arthur grabbed Alfred's wrist, and pulled him into the living room. “You're six years old! You're more than old enough to obey the rules!”

Still, Alfred looked at him like he was doing something horribly wrong. Well, the puppy dog eyes would not win out this time. Five swats with the paddle ought to do it.

Alfred didn't immediately bend over Arthur's lap when he sat down in the chair. Not unusual, considering how defiant he'd been lately. He seemed almost shocked when Arthur made him do it.

The first swat made Alfred scream, suddenly struggling to get off his lap.

The second made Alfred start sobbing uncontrollably.

And the third made him start saying, “Désolé! Je suis vraiment désolé! Arretez, s'il vous plait!”

Arthur froze. It occurred to him about that second that he did not indeed have Alfred with him.

Matthew sobbed, wriggling free of Arthur to run for Francis. “Papa! Papa!”

Arthur might have been able to catch him before he tattled to Francis, but Francis was already in the doorway. 

He scooped up Matthew, who clung to him like a baby. His blue eyes immediately spotted the paddle in Arthur's hand, and he practically growled, “You didn't.”

Arthur felt very stupid, but he wasn't about to admit it. “Well, he was eating cookies before dinner--”

“Which is perfectly allowed, by my rules,” Francis said, rubbing Matthew's back. “Matthieu knows better than to eat too many.”

Arthur's cheeks were flaming red. “He's just six! How do you know he's not eating too many cookies?”

“Because I raised him well,” Francis said sharply. He nodded over his shoulder, and Arthur could see Alfred stuffing his face with the cookies that had been left out by Matthew. “That's the one you should worry about. He'll eat anything, up to and including the kitchen sink, because you're a horrible parent!”

“I am not a horrible parent!” Arthur snapped back.

“You beat children with a wooden paddle! I think that's the definition of a horrible parent,” Francis said. Matthew was still crying into his shoulder. Francis gently stroked the boy's blond hair, and whispered, “Calmes-toi, mon petit chou. Papa t'aime.”

Arthur couldn't bring himself to say he was sorry, even with the betrayed look on Matthew's face.

Francis said, rather coldly, “Matthieu and I are going out to eat tonight. I hope you enjoy your microwave dinners.”

And he stalked out the door.

It was really going to take a lot of apologizing and such to fix this one, Arthur realized with a sigh. In the meantime, he had to stop Alfred from gorging himself...

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> "Sorry! I am very sorry! Stop, please!"
> 
> "Calm down, my little cabbage (or dearest, depending on how you translate it). Papa loves you."


End file.
